Soul Calibur
by arthurianlover
Summary: Years have passed since the war and Arthur's death. Merlin, the next King, appointed by Arthur upon death, struggles to keep the kingdom together and rule and the ghosts of the past are driving him mad. At the same time a man comes out of the lake with no memory. Love will spark, memories will rise, betrayals will light up, and evil will rise.. co-written with Lady Cherry Blossom!
1. He will Surface

The man climbed on his hands and knees to the bank. He was dripping with water and blood. His breathing was shallow and his skin pale. His arms collapsed and he came to lie ten feet from the lake in which he had just had came from. He opened his eyes only to re-shut them as the world around him spun. Counting to sixty he reopened them. He carefully rolled onto his side, wincing. He looked down and saw a hole in his Brest plate of his armor. Upon examining it with his hands he found it was deep. Removing his hands he brushed the sand from the bank to rub the blood off. He pushed himself up in a sitting position. He looked around. He was in a glade of some kind. Before him for miles to the left and right was a wood line. Through the trees he could see shadows of other trees and thicket reaching far back. He looked behind him and saw a lake. He squinted and made out a faint island in the middle of the lake and on the other shore another tree line.

He shook his head then winced at the pain. He stood, his legs shook but he did not fall. He checked himself over but found no more wounds like the one on his chest. He unclasped the armor and took it off. He wore a tunic underneath which was dry from water and blood. He could not find an answer to that just as he could not find an answer as to how he knew how to take the armor off, where he was, or who he was. He tried to recall the memory, any memory, but none came. There were hazy fragments but they went away as fast as they came. He looked at the armor at his feet and the sword at his side. He slid it out of the sheath and looked at the blade. It was pristine and gleamed in the sun. The hilt was gold and words were imprinted in the blade. These did not recall any memories either. He re-sheathed the sword and begun to walk. He did not know where he was walking only following his feet. He walked into the woods and begun to go in a westerly position.

"_Arthur…"_

The man stopped and turned. "Who is there?"

There was no answer but the wind. He did not hear the voice again. He shivered. Sharply he turned at a rustle in the trees. Black birds flew in the sky and he watched them leave the wood and fly beyond and out of sight.

"_Arthur. Come."_

The man felt a sharp pain in his head. He gasped. "Arthur…my name is Arthur."

He put a shaking hand to his mouth and breathed. He was Arthur. He did not know how he was sure, but he knew it was his name. That was his name but who was Arthur? He had no memories besides hazy fragments that he could not make out. The voice, the one that had said his name, sounded so familiar. He looked westward. He could see a tall white spire in the far distances. He was sure his answers would lie there…

PLEASE REVIEW SO I KNOW IF I SHOULD CONTUINE OR NOT! OR I WONT POST ANOTHER CHAPTER!

THANK YOU 3


	2. A New King

Merlin watched the backs of the group of lords close the door on their exit from the Throne Room. He rubbed his temples. He was starting to get a head ache. He was having more and more of those lately. He would have to take a trip down to Guias' chambers to retrieve a potion. It was times like these that he hated having his chambers at the end of the castle. He wished for his old room back in Guias' chambers. He wished for his old life back. His hands went unconsciously went to the necklace at his neck. His fingers turned the silver dragon over and over. Away went the thoughts of the meeting of the Treasury accounts and to a young man with blonde hair and green eyes. A wave of sadness washed over Merlin. He bowed his head. His eyes ghosted over with moisture. A memory of war, blood, and his own breathing as he carried a large bundle through the wood wracked his mind. The memory of a soft and distant voice and a smile fleeting on a soft face before eyes closed forever. The memory of never getting to tell what he had been hiding.

"Merlin?"

Merlin Emrys, warlock and King of Camelot, looked up. He brushed his eyes quickly and put his hand on the throne's arms. Before him stood Gwen, the dark skinned lady who had once been a mere servant and was now duchess over all the outlying towns. She had come to Camelot for the annual spring assembly of the King and his court. She stood in front of him now in a soft purple gown and her hair down her back. Her face was forever scared by a white line from her neck to her mouth from the war. She had hid it the first couple months but now wore it proudly. It was a reminded of what they still had. Of whom they had lost in the war.

Gwen walked up the dais of the Throne. She laid a hand on Merlin's arm, "Do you wish to talk?"

Merlin looked up at her, "There is nothing to talk about, Gwen. It was the usual talk of taxes and how we seem to spend more money they I order to be spent. I suppose I shall have to talk to Gawaine about his tavern visits…again."

Gwen did not even blink at Merlin's jest and said softly, "That's not what I meant, Merlin. It is okay to be sad. We all know that you-"

Merlin got up and walked away from Gwen, "You all are wrong. I am just a little tired is all. A kingdom is hard to run and we still are rebuilding from the war. I am starting to think it was curse to rule instead of a gift."

"You know why you were picked," Gwen said looking as Merlin paced up and down the room.

It was no secret that Merlin had changed after the war. He was still Merlin. Still sweet and caring, and self-sacrificing, but Merlin was more reserved these days, quite, distant. Gwen- and the knights who were left from the old days before the war-knew that Merlin loved to frequent the room in the west wing: the old room of the late King which lay uninhabited and would have collected dust had Merlin not cleaned it.

Gwen watched as Merlin curled his fist into a ball. "Merlin if there had been another way you would have found it. It is because you that we are free. That people like you are free. If he had known what you have he would have accepted you more so. It was not your fault he died. You gave him a good final hour that no one else would have been able to. It wasn't your fault. It's okay to miss him…I know how you feel about him and it is okay, Merlin….if he would have known…"

"Gwen. Please, don't. You know nothing. Arthur was my friend. My king. "

The pair stayed quite. Merlin turned to her, "He will never know. It is best this way. He would not have accepted me or…this. I am doing as he wished. I am running Camelot."

"He would have wanted you happy to. Merlin, I know that Arthur felt the same way as you... you can say you don't know what I am taking about but we all saw it…"

Merlin was saved from answering as the door busted open. Percival ran in. Skidding to a halt, he breathed hard. Sweat was shining down his bear arms. "Sire! At the lake- Ranger saw a man- A man coming out of the lake!"

Merlin walked over to Percival, his robe of blue sweeping the floor. "Slow down, Percival. Deep breaths."

The knight took a deep breath. "The ranger, in the wood, saw a man come out of the lake. He found him. He sent on the green lads and he met me on the way here and relayed the message. You are to come quickly, Merlin."

For a second Merlin was still. His mind concurred up images a blonde hair man laid out on a boat. He saw himself falling down, sobbing. Then he was back to the present. He nodded to the knight.

"Then let us go."


	3. Ghost Will walk among

_Chapter 3 – The Difficult Feelings_

**I have started co-writing this story with Lady Cherry Blossom. **

**she wrote this chapter so enjoy!**

The ride to the ranger's hut took them two hours, but it felt like ages. The journey was undisturbed and eventless. They rode in silence. Merlin was the one to lead the way; he knew the road far too well. It brought back unwanted memories. He tried to suppress the images of Arthur's death and the return to Camelot painfully alone with a new burden on his shoulders, but they were stronger than his will. He kept his face straight, but inside him raged a storm of feelings.

He still wasn't calm when they arrived to the clearing, where the hut was. It was a small wooden building, just like the hut he had taken Arthur to when they had been looking for Emrys to cure Uther, when… _No, stop, _he thought, _you don't want to think about it. Not now._

The ranger, Samuel, was already waiting. He bowed deeply when he saw the king, "Your Majesty."

"No need to bow, Sam. Is the stranger inside?" Merlin jumped off his horse. Behind him Percival, Gwaine and Gwen followed his movement. Leon hadn't come with them, because Merlin had entrusted him with protecting the castle while he was gone.

"Yes, your Majesty. He was all soaked so I took him inside and gave him another set of clothes. Also, he was injured. I tended to his wound," Sam said. He stood stiffly, waiting for the king to approve or reprimand him.

Merlin nodded, "Good job."

Sam stepped in place uncomfortably, "There is something more, your Majesty. He said that his name was Arthur."

Merlin felt cold anger starting to burn in his stomach. Was someone trying to pretend to be Arthur Pendragon? Had he changed himself into the Golden King in the same method as Mary Collins, who had taken the face of Lady Helen?

He slowly turned to his friends, "Percy, Gwen, I want you to go inside, and talk with the man, see what's going on. Meanwhile, Gwaine and I will go with Sam to search through the place that he was found. We will be back soon, and then I'll question him by myself," they sent him a worried look, but went inside the hut as he had commanded. They had known him long enough to see that it wasn't the time to decline his orders.

Sam bowed slightly again, and walked towards the forest, leading the way. Merlin and the knight followed just behind him.

"Are you alright?" Gwaine asked a couple of minutes later. Merlin frowned. Gwaine was his closest friend now, one of the few he still showed his true self to. Of course he had sensed that something was wrong. The warlock sighed, hesitating. Should he tell the knight, or keep his feelings to himself? He decided to choose the latter.

"It's hard, you know? Everything here reminds me of that day," he sighed deeply, "I can't think straight. I need to calm myself a bit. If I had entered the hut just after we had arrived here, and discovered that someone was trying to pretend to be _him_, I'm pretty sure I'd kill that man."

Gwaine didn't say anything, just nodded with understanding. That was the reason Merlin had chosen to confide in the knight; he'd known that Gwaine wouldn't ask uncomfortable questions, or fuss over him like Gwen. The confession made him feel a bit better; he hadn't shared his emotions with anybody for a long time. Arthur's death and taking the crown had changed him forever. As the king he couldn't allow himself to show any weakness. There was no way back to his past self anymore.

Soon, they reached the lake and started to look for any signs of the place where the stranger got into the waters in order to find a proof that he was an imposer. They found nothing, but Merlin wasn't surprised. If the man had magic as the king suspected, he could easily cover his footprints with a spell. The warlock would be more taken aback if they actually found anything. The trip to Avalon was pointless from the very beginning, but it helped Merlin to clear his head. He cast one sad look at the lake where too many of his friends were buried and took a deep breath.

Then he called Sam and Gwaine. They could go back. He was ready to face the stranger.

When they returned to the hut, Percival was already waiting for them outside. He greeted them with a smile, but when Merlin walked closer in order to enter the hut, the knight moved, standing in his way.

"Did you find anything?" he asked, but there was a strange fakeness in his voice.

"No, we didn't. I need to question the man now, so can you move?"

"Gwen and I have already done that. He doesn't remember anything but his name. Don't you think we shouldn't waste any more time here?"

"I need to know whether or not he lied to you," Merlin was getting irritated. He wanted to finish the case quickly, before he lost control over his feelings again, "Move, Percy."

The knight's eyes narrowed rebelliously at first, but Merlin's fierce look slowly changed the disobedience into something akin to sadness and resignation. After a moment Percival lowered his gaze and stepped back, allowing the warlock to open the door.

The hut was cozy and inviting inside. The furniture was simple and wooden. The windows let the warm, late light play on the walls. From the fireplace came familiar sounds of a dancing fire.

But Merlin noticed none of that. His eyes were glued to the person sitting by the small table. Next to him Gwen sent the warlock a frightened look, but he didn't even see that.

Because next to Gwen sat the ghost who had haunted him, in both his dreams and nightmares, ever since that day, two years ago, when he had failed.

Because next to Gwen sat Arthur.

Merlin had no doubts. The strong, trained body, the golden hair, the sparking blue eyes that looked at him with confusion. The warlock's magic wakened and sang in his body, like a dog happy that his master is back. It really was his king, his friend, his… A lone tear appeared in his eyes before he remembered that he no longer had the right to hug the blond. Merlin had failed. He'd let Arthur die. He'd betrayed his trust by returning magic to the kingdom. He no longer deserved to be Arthur's friend.

Instead, he slowly entered the room with a blank expression. Arthur's eyes followed his movement. Merlin noticed that Arthur looked lost, uncertain, curious. Why would an arrogant, big headed, prideful prat like Arthur look lost? The question made him remember Percival's words: _"He doesn't remember anything but his name."_

But Arthur couldn't have forgotten about Merlin, not about him; surely he would know that they were…

"Do I know you? You look familiar," Arthur's words cut the silence like a knife. He confirmed Merlin's worst assumptions. Why did the Destiny have to be so cruel? Wasn't Arthur's death enough? How was he supposed to react to this?

The new king of Camelot made his choice. Arthur didn't remember Merlin, so Merlin, for the former king's sake, would not know Arthur. The warlock braced himself, and turned his eyes into ice. His expression betrayed nothing.

"No, I'm sure I would have remembered you if we had met," he ignored Percival's gasp, and Gwen's surprised face. Gwaine said nothing. He understood.

"I'm Arthur. That's the only thing I remember, actually," Arthur smiled and held out his hand, oblivious to the atmosphere in the room.

Merlin ignored the blond's hand, "I'm Merlin Emrys, the king of Camelot. We are taking you with us," he turned around, "Gwaine, he will ride with you. Take care of everything."

Without a second glance, Merlin shut the door behind him with a loud crash.

**please review because Lady Cherry Blossom deserves it and I shall update my chapter next!**


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